He golloped it down like old boots and his tongue hanging out of him a yard long for more.

Ok. I get it. You can’t cure somebody of desire. A taste, they want more. Sicken them with excess of it, they want more. Train them by kindness, they want more. Teach them the evils of it with don’t you see and but on the other hand and they want more. A few bits, hungry for more. Breeding, doesn’t matter. Intelligence, doesn’t matter. More.